Parental Discretion Is Advised
by RealLoveContest
Summary: You never get too old to call Mom and Dad for help...


'**Real Love' Contest**

**Title: Parental Discretion is Advised**

**Characters: Bella/Edward**

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns all. We just like to play with her characters. Rated M for lemons.**

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>The white wine spritzer should have been my clue to run for the door. I mean, what sexual being orders a white wine spritzer on a first date in a bar? Of course, this was <em>Edward Fucking Cullen<em>, dreamboat extraordinaire. Every girl on campus drooled all over him, trying to sink their claws in his tasty, succulent flesh. I, however, chose to admire from afar, fantasizing about his chiseled muscles underneath his button downs while having a go with my battery-operated boyfriend. Apparently, my worship from afar plan worked to a 't' because right after our final biology lab, the bronze-haired Adonis asked me out.

I stammered through a suggestion of drinks at the local hangout – after all, worshipping from afar meant I knew next to nothing about him, except that I could probably bounce quarters off of his ass. So the safe bet was somewhere with lots of people and eateries close by in case things went fabulously well, and a goodbye after a drink or two if they went south instead. And, oh, how I dreamed about him heading _south_…

On our first date, I sipped on a few beers while he nursed his white wine spritzer, and the conversation was decidedly awkward. I'm not one to hide anything, including emotions, and since I'm pretty much an open book, I tried to drop hints that things just weren't quite up to standard yet. I mean, I figured Edward _fucking_ Cullen would be master of _all_, including conversation, but I was wrong. If we weren't discussing something related to his Pre-Med major, then he really didn't have much to say. There were a lot of "uhh"s and "hrmm"s in between long, drawn out pauses. His eloquent speech collided with my graceless, incorrectly punctuated conversation. Edward didn't seem fazed, though, and he asked me if I would be interested in dinner after I had "finished consuming my beverage". I was a starving college student working two jobs, and so I convinced myself the conversation wasn't _too_ hideous, allowing myself a free meal.

Dinner went quite well, the awkward pauses not so clumsy when you can stuff your mouth full of mushroom ravioli while downing two bottles of red wine. The exquisite nosh and the fabulous eye candy overrode all of the negative factors of the night, and I granted Edward a second date. His social awkwardness began to grow on me – after all, a shy, floundering Adonis is _still_ an Adonis. The fact that he was such a sweet gentleman helped as well. When he asked to kiss me on our second date, I agreed, impressed that he would take such a step instead of just attacking me like most of the guys I'd dated.

_Jacob_, for instance.

The kiss wasn't spectacular with fireworks and electricity shooting down my spine, but it wasn't horrible either, so we made plans for a _third_ date – you know, the _socially acceptable to have sex_ date. I should have realized that after another awkward conversation over that damned white wine spritzer and appetizers, I should've cut my losses and run. But something in me kept telling me that Edward the Adonis had something to offer. And after four years without sex, _any_ guy had something to offer, or at least that's what I told myself.

We headed back to my apartment on that mediocre third date and began making out, which – just like the kiss – was merely okay and not spectacular. Things quickly snowballed and rolled downhill when we went into the bedroom. With Jake, the only other guy I'd ever been with, I'd always been able to turn those _meh_ moments into something worth having. I'm not saying I'm a goddess in the sack, far from it, but it isn't difficult to lead a man to water.

As soon as I had discarded my shirt, I attempted to slink over to the bed in a sexy manner, but I stumbled in my usual graceless fashion instead. I quickly tried to cover it up by doing this weird, shuffling striptease, which should have turned any man off instantly. But thankfully luck was on my side that night. I managed to hit my target when I threw my bra – it landed right on Edward's face, blocking his view. I took advantage of his blindness by scurrying over to the bed before he was able to remove it.

When he realized I was standing right next to the bed, he grabbed my hips and gently guided me down until I was straddling him. He kissed me deeply and reached up, patting my breasts like one would pat a dog. And then it dawned on me why he was so awkward. I broke away from him and asked, "Edward, are you a virgin?"

Mr. Eloquent looked guilty and actually stammered out, "I-uh-I, y-yes."

I was a bit shocked – how was he still a _virgin_? – but I smiled at him and bent down to give him a peck on the lips before replying, "It's nothing to be ashamed of." And it _wasn't_. We'd all been there before, after all, and I'd only had one sexual partner before him. Plus, an untrained man is easier to mold into a perfect plaything, right?

_Right._

I leaned down and kissed him again, grabbing his hands and placing them on my breasts, allowing him to knead, play, and experiment all he wanted. I made sure to groan and let him know what I liked, even guiding him a bit. When Edward got down on his knees before me and began kissing down my stomach, I blessed the inner gentleman in him for making sure that I was taken care of first, but I spoke too soon. Things were going reasonably well until my panties were being discarded. The moment my second foot tried to leave the leg opening, my big toe got tangled and I yelped, tripping, and grabbed hold of the only thing before me – Edward's hair. He let out a bellow and flinched back, arching back onto the bed, and I nailed him right in the face with my breasts as I fell forward onto him. We quickly recovered, both of us giggling awkwardly and trying unsuccessfully to brush it off as if it wasn't anything _too_ embarrassing.

"Maybe we should lie down. We might be more comfortable that way," I offered.

He kissed me softly on the lips and then smiled before taking my hand and leading the way. I lay down, my head on the pillow, and crossed my legs at the ankles, waiting for him to make the first move. I realized he might not have ever pleasured a woman before, but I certainly wasn't going to make it easy on him by assuming the position spread eagle. Thankfully, he took my cue and, kneeling next to me, continued where he'd left off, kissing his way down my stomach again. I closed my eyes and focused on his touch, trying to rid the previous moment from my mind. His lips felt cool against my skin – a stark contrast to the night's warm air – but as he moved lower…and lower still…I felt a warmth spread through my body, from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. His touch was soft and timid, but he grew exceedingly confident as I arched my body into his kisses and trailed my fingers down his back and over his ass.

I opened my eyes as he finally reached the promised land and watched as he slowly spread my legs open and repositioned himself between them. He looked up at me and smiled again, his hair falling into his eyes, and a small part of my heart melted for him – for _this_ – because he was doing so well and his need to please me was written all over his face. I bit my lip and reached my hand down to stroke his hair, and he lowered himself down and tentatively kissed me above my clitoris.

And then he licked me.

And for some unknown reason – only God knows why – "And Then He Kissed Me" by The Crystals started playing in my head. I couldn't let go of the ridiculousness of it all, and I burst out laughing. Poor Edward stopped what he was doing and I stared down at him with what must have looked like sheer mania written on my face as I cupped my hands to my mouth. I shook my head rapidly side to side, trying to still my laughter, and then the unmentionable happened. I farted. It was silent, and it shut me right up, but it left me staring wide-eyed with a look of horror on my face, at Edward, whose head was cocked to the side, confused.

_Oh God. Oh God, what if it smells? Oh fuck!_

I clenched my ass cheeks together as best as I could while still spread out before him and lowered my hands to my stomach, breathing out slowly to steady myself for what could potentially be the worst moment of my life. We just stared at each other, and I had to fight the urge to laugh again, thinking of it like we were two opponents in a stare down. I flared my nostrils a few times, figuring if he was staring at my eyes, then he wouldn't notice some sniffing on the sly. I took in a shaky breath when I realized the air seemed clean and he still hadn't reacted to any kind of odor. And then I lied. "I'm sorry! You hit a ticklish spot!" And it worked! He snorted a laugh and scratched his head before heading south once again.

It took me a _long_ time before I was able to unclench my cheeks, and this undoubtedly didn't help Edward's mission, but I eventually relaxed enough where I could focus on his actions. He wasn't bad – sometimes circling his tongue a little _too_ fast for my liking – but all in all, he was well on his way to making me come. That is, until he decided to insert his index finger inside me a little _too_ quickly and with a little _too_ much enthusiasm. I was caught off guard, and I grunted before raising myself up on one elbow to gently touch his head, asking, "A little slower, please?" He looked up at me and made a weird movement with his jaw before reaching a hand up to remove a pubic hair from his tongue. I cringed a bit, but then he closed his eyes, lowered his head, and started moving his finger in and out of me at a slower pace and circling my clit clockwise at the same tempo. I pulled my hand back and lowered myself down onto the pillow, closing my eyes too, and settled in for the ride.

But it was a _bumpy_ ride. Whenever his tongue hit me in the right spot, I would moan in pleasure, but logic didn't seem to compute with him. For some reason, he would pack his bags and travel to Tennessee when really he should have just stayed _put_. So it became a tango of sorts – I would moan, he would move a millimeter, and my vagina would follow his tongue like a stray dog would follow a hobo. He seemed to be deaf to my pleas of, "Right there," "Don't move," and "Just like that!" And I don't know what he did exactly…but he finally did _something_ right because the next thing I knew, my stomach was clenching, my pelvis was tilting, and my war-weary clit was finally admitting defeat. I came _hard_, and there was _nothing_ beautiful about it. I opened my mouth and _mewed_, but I was too far gone to be able to do anything about it but be both horrified and powerless as I succumbed to the delicious sensations coursing through my every nerve. And he wouldn't stop! Instead of easing up with his tongue as I came down from my high, he kept going, and I instinctively shut my legs against his head, successfully trapping him – _and_ his movements – in a power hold between them.

Edward was neither concerned with my horrid caterwauling nor with my _apparently_ gymnastic thighs. He wanted to continue, so I obliged him. I knew I wasn't about to let him anywhere near my blistered clit, so I decided to repay the oral favor. Now, I was terrible at blowjobs, and I knew it, but I figured a terrible blowjob would seem like the best thing since sliced bread to a virgin. I grabbed his hands and pulled him to a standing position before removing his sexy little boxers, finally getting a peek at his perfectly sized dick. I knew an Adonis _had_ to be packing, and I'd felt it against my leg a few times, but damn, it was neither too big _nor_ too small. I felt like Goldilocks and her porridge – it was _just right_.

I dropped to my knees and began licking and sucking as I grabbed two handfuls of his tight ass. I knew it wouldn't take much for him to come, and after a minute or two, I made the mistake of looking up to see if I could gauge how close he was to his release. When I saw the concentrated look of constipated euphoria on his face, I couldn't help it and began to chuckle with a mouthful of dick.

Edward chose that moment to orgasm, releasing his load into my mouth as I snorted. The result was a very painful stream of semen squirting _out of my nose_ and right back onto him. I would've been worried about the whole embarrassing aspect of the situation, but it hurt like hell and I was too busy grabbing my nose while yelling, "Owie! Owie! Fucking ow!" Edward, the ever-concerned gentleman, dropped to his knees to check on me, but there really wasn't much he could do. I ended up stumbling to the bathroom and shooting an entire bottle of nasal spray up my nose.

If this wasn't bad enough, I somehow managed to smear part of the leftover deposits into my right eye, which burned something fierce, giving me the distinct look of a pirate. For the next few days, I insisted that my telltale squint was due to an eye infection. The fact that Edward was completely apologetic, even though it had been my fault, coupled with him not insisting on more that night and settling on a nice cuddle, convinced me that penetration would _have_ to be better.

Apparently, the trauma we'd inflicted during our first sexual encounter sans penetration lasted two weeks, although _I_ blamed it on finals. After my last exam was over, Edward cornered me with a dozen roses and a request to join him in celebrating the end of our senior year in college. I couldn't turn him down because it took some serious bravery for him to ask me out after what had occurred. Deciding that I'd show him what a sexual goddess could do, I agreed and then promptly went out on a lingerie shopping spree and had my nether bits groomed.

This time, I suggested we go back to _his_ place in order to avoid any flashbacks of our last encounter. So, after _decent_ conversation, two bottles of wine, and a nice walk in the warm summer evening, we ended up at his apartment. The foreplay went _much_ smoother when Edward realized it was fine to touch me, the two of us experimenting to see what we both liked best. We decided to play it safe with missionary, and this time we used a condom. I know I shouldn't have given Edward oral our first time, but since he was a virgin, I didn't figure there was any harm in it. In other words, I was _lucky_.

Mountains didn't move, and Edward kept stopping in order to ask me if I was all right, which was a bit weird, but I did have an orgasm and was finally able to brush those cobwebs off of my cooter. It wasn't until _after_ that things took a turn for the worse. When Edward pulled out, the condom was missing. At first I panicked, knowing that I'd just graduated and still planned on finishing my Masters. I wasn't ready for a baby, and I couldn't really afford the morning after pill, but damn it, I'd have to. Then, after a few minutes in the bathroom trying to fish the bastard out to no avail, I finally bowed my head and swung the door open, my voice cracking with despair as I bawled, "I can't reach it!"

The next half hour was dedicated to Edward's nimble fingers trying to find the lost prophylactic in my apparently never-ending vag. Tears poured down my cheeks as he poked, prodded, and inserted over and over without any luck. Finally, he pulled me into his arms and comforted me as I admitted I didn't have health insurance and couldn't afford a trip to the ER. I told him I'd just have to wait the two days and visit the free clinic on Monday.

Edward gave me a quick kiss on the forehead and jumped up, throwing me my shirt and quickly donning his pants before heading into the living room. I dressed and then followed him, just to see him hanging up the phone as he collapsed onto the sofa. I went and sat beside him stiffly, still sniffling. He threw an arm over me and pulled me to his side, never explaining the mysterious phone call, although it wasn't long before there was a knock at his apartment door.

Most girls get a nice, boring meal and some gawky conversation when they meet their boyfriend's parents. Instead, I was lucky enough to greet Dr. Cullen, medical bag in hand, who had arrived to pull the lost condom out of my vagina – kind of like the magical rabbit in a hat trick. To make matters worse, his very sweet wife, Esme, was with him. After we were properly introduced and he knew the full name of the girl who had deflowered his son, Esme ran off with a prescription Dr. Cullen wrote for me for emergency contraceptive.

Edward stayed with me the whole time, his face stoic even though I knew it was a mask. He had to be just as embarrassed as I was, but it didn't show. He held my hand and kissed me on the forehead as his father dug around in the glory hole his son had just had his way with. Although it only took five minutes from the time I had laid spread eagle on Edward's bed to the time Dr. Cullen threw a sheet over me and told me the worst was over, it felt like an _eternity_. Edward coaxed a sample of a mild sedative from his father, and I took both it and the morning after pill before curling up into a ball on Edward's bed, hoping that I'd wake up to find the entire experience had just been a terrible nightmare.

I really can't say _why_, but something about Edward kept me coming back for more, even after our first two completely horrifying sexual encounters. I think it had to do with the fact that he kept coming back to _me_, plain old Bella Swan. It had to do with the way he treated me like a princess, even though I felt like a walking disaster area. He saw something in me that I had yet to see in myself, and somehow I ended up falling in love with him. The sex wasn't always terrible. As a matter of fact, the more we practiced, the better it became. We managed to laugh off the awkward encounters for the most part, and as the passion grew, most of those memories were replaced with ones that could melt my panties.

Our wedding night was one I'll always aspire to outdo. After the beautiful ceremony of my dreams, we went away to his _very_ wealthy parents' quiet island getaway for a month, and we barely left the bed. Of course, there always have been those nights that make me wonder what I was thinking.

Tonight, for instance.

It was our tenth wedding anniversary, and it would be the first time our sexual escapades have ever ended with the need of a hacksaw.

Edward had managed to get the night off from the hospital, and I took the afternoon off from my publisher. Edward dropped our five-year-old daughter, Renesmee, off with his parents for the night before picking me up at work to spend the afternoon retracing the steps of our first date. We even went to that college bar and had a drink. I had a beer and, of course, Edward had that damned white wine spritzer. And as soon as that drink made it into his hands, our night was doomed to fail.

When we arrived home, I was shocked to find the floor sprinkled with rose petals leading up to our room. I turned and smiled at my gorgeous husband and pecked him on the cheek before hurriedly heading upstairs. When I opened the bedroom door, I couldn't help the gasp that escaped my lips. Edward had bought the classic wrought iron bed that I'd been admiring from his mother's antique store!

"Oh, Edward, it's beautiful! Oh!" I ran and jumped on the bed, where I bounced around, pleased beyond words with how well it complemented the rest of the furnishings in our room. Edward just grinned at me as he made his way around the room, lighting various-sized candles that he'd placed on our dresser and nightstands before leaving the house earlier that day. _Crafty little bugger!_

I got up onto my knees and curled my finger at him seductively as I began unbuttoning my shirt. "Come here, baby," I whispered. He raised his eyebrow at me and laughed before putting the lighter down and making his way over to me. He stood at the edge of the bed and admired my show for him. He was already standing at full attention, Captain Cullen at the ready, when I removed my blouse, revealing a _very_ sexy lace bra I had been saving just for this occasion.

"_Hello_…" he said, staring down at my cleavage and bringing his hands up to cup – not _pat_ – my breasts. He moved his thumbs softly over the material of my bra to circle my nipples, which grew hard almost instantly. I reached up and kissed him as I cupped his balls in my left hand, massaging them, and tangled the fingers of my right hand into his hair.

He moaned into my mouth and I pulled back a little to whisper, "We've come a long way from our first few dates, haven't we?"

"Oh, the years have been fraught with interesting moments…but I'd rather forget _those_ times right now. Right now I just want to fuck my wife."

"Edward!" I was shocked but horribly turned on by his out of character statement, and I bit my lip as he gently pushed me down to lie on the bed. He was still standing at the edge, and he rolled me to the side and peppered my lower back with kisses as he unbuttoned my skirt, pulling it down and leaving a trail of wet kisses in its wake.

I was left in just my matching lace panties and bra set, and he straightened up so he could stare at me lying on the bed, a look of pure love and admiration in his eyes. At that moment, I was overcome with such deep emotion, at the love I had for him and our daughter, and I thought back to all of our moments together – both good and bad – and how lucky I was to be married to him. But I held back the tears and focused on the beautiful man before me. He was no longer the awkward man I had doubted dating all those years ago – no, he was _my_ man and he was making me breathe heavier with each movement of his hands as he stared deeply into my eyes and undid his belt before unzipping his dress pants and dropping them to the floor.

I watched his every movement, his body still sculpted from our college days, and when he grabbed hold of my left ankle and brought my leg up into the air, his fingers dancing a sensual pattern from my ankle down to my inner thigh, I felt like I was going to melt into the sea of covers beneath me. My eyes rolled back as he licked a path across my ankle, up the underside of my foot, and then began to suck on my toe. He pulled back briefly to pick a piece of fluff out of his mouth that had managed to attach itself to my foot, and I couldn't help but laugh. It would just be like us for something to go awry… But Edward looked down at me and laughed too. Hell, ten years didn't come by their own making, and a sense of humour had certainly helped us along the way.

Edward reached down and hooked his fingers into my panties, pulling them down my thighs before tossing them onto the floor. He stepped back and pulled his boxers off while I reached behind me and unclasped my bra – but Edward stopped me from pulling the straps down my arms.

"I want to do that," he said, standing between my legs and pressing against my center as he reached down to pull my bra away from me. I wrapped my legs around him and pulled him in even closer to me, needing to feel _him_ so much more, and grabbed hold of his shoulders to pull myself up to kiss him. Using one hand to steady us, he used his other hand to hold my ass up against him as he crawled us further onto the bed, his lips never leaving mine the entire time.

He placed me down gently against the pillow, pressing his body into mine, and I held on even tighter with my legs, grinding myself into him and wrapping my arms around his neck. He groaned and ground against me as well, and we found a rhythm together just like this, his cock teasing me with each pass. I was getting more wet with each second – the hot night air and heat from the candles in the room slicking our bodies with every movement. He was sliding against me, and then he found his target and just slipped inside me. I arched my head back, the two of us overcome by the sudden sensation, and we became frantic in our lovemaking.

I couldn't get enough of the feel of him inside me, our bodies moving together, never missing a beat. We knew exactly how to please each other now, each thrust and clench bringing us closer to the brink, but the heat was beginning to become a bit too much. I was sweltering under his body, our stomachs slapping together, the loud noise of it helped along with the aid of our sweat, and Edward was panting above me.

"Why don't we switch position?" I offered.

He chuckled and pulled out of me, and I flipped over onto my knees, my hands finding purchase under the pillow and my head facing toward the wrought iron headboard. I raised my ass into the air and felt him repositioning himself behind me, so I teased him with my opening, dragging myself from side to side against his very erect cock. He dominantly grabbed my hip to steady me before entering me in one long thrust. I arched my back and buried my head into the pillow before twisting my neck to face the window.

Deep guttural sounds were coming from Edward now, and I couldn't help the moans that were coming from me either. He began to jackhammer me, though, so I raised myself up onto my hands so I could bear down against his more forceful movements. He wasn't hurting me though – far from it! Sometimes rougher is just better, and this was one of those moments.

Edward had one hand still clenching my ass, and the other hand was now pressed into my lower back, holding me in position as he worked us both into a frenzy. But then all hell broke loose.

He _slipped_… Out of me. And he hadn't even realized it.

There was one brief queef, and the next thing I knew, Edward was plunging himself back into me – only he had missed his target by what could only be construed as a _mile_ in a woman's world. We had never even _broached_ the subject of anal sex before. It was something neither one of us had ever had any interest in, at least not that I knew of. But _shit-damn-Christ-on-a-cracker_ did we ever christen my ass at that moment! I screamed blue murder, and my fight or flight response kicked in. I lunged forward as Edward climaxed…and somehow shot my head right between two of the iron posts of the headboard.

My senses were on high alert, and I knew several things all at once – A) Edward, my husband, my _love_, was bent over me, panting and grunting in inexplicable pleasure, unaware that his wife's head was currently lodged in her anniversary gift because his dick had been lodged in an exit only area, B) I was still screaming blue murder and realizing that my husband probably thought I'd just had the best orgasm of my life and just couldn't keep quiet, and C) my ass would simply never recover. I was sure of it – more sure than even my love for my husband at that very moment.

I began to shake and sob, trying unsuccessfully to twist my body out from beneath Edward, my one arm grabbing hold of an iron bar, the other reaching behind me to swat my husband away from me. I was pitiful, simply _pitiful_. And the pain was indescribable.

I suddenly became aware that Edward had changed position. He was now kneeling beside me, his hands on my shoulders, trying in his post-euphoric state to figure out how the hell I had managed to get my head stuck. He was speaking so rapidly that I couldn't make heads or tails of what he was saying. I think he was crying – or close to it.

"Edward! Shut up! Please! Give me a moment." He shut up immediately. I shifted myself with my arms and tried to dislodge my head, but to no avail.

"Edward, help!" I started to cry again. I just couldn't believe that on all of the nights for something like this to happen that it had to be on our anniversary!

"I don't know what to do, Bella! You're so stuck! How the hell did this happen?" he said, trying still to find a solution, pulling my hair back and out from the bars to get a better look.

"Don't go there, Edward! Not now."

"Fuck. Hold on a sec," he said before I felt his weight leave the bed. _What the hell?_

"Edward," I screamed, "you come back here this instant! Edward…?" I sank my chest into the pillow and flopped my arms to my sides, my ass still facing the ceiling. I was completely defeated.

A couple of minutes later, Edward returned to the room and gingerly made his way onto the bed by my side. He pulled a blanket over me to cover me, and when I looked up at him I saw that he was now wearing a pair of shorts. He wiped the tears from eyes, wiping what looked to be wet mascara across his stomach, before leaning down on all fours – essentially mirroring my position, sans iron bars – to talk to me.

"I called my mom."

"You _what_?"

"I called my mom. Dad's still at the hospital on rounds, so she's coming over with Renesmee to see if she can help. She's bringing a hacksa–"

"Edward Anthony Cullen, is this some kind of a joke? Your _mother_?"

"Well, she works in antiques, love. She'd know how to best handle the situation, don't you think? It's worth a try. And she's the closest who can help!"

I was going to die. _I_ was going to die. I was going to–

_Edward_ was going to _die_! I was going to widow myself on my anniversary. That was it.

"What did you _tell_ her, Edward?"

"Um…uh–"

"Get me a pair of shorts and a button up shirt! _You_ are going to dress me and make me presentable, Edward! A blanket, Edward? A _blanket_!" I started muttering nonsensically as Edward raced around to grab me something to wear. He scrambled back to the bed after a minute of frantically going through our closet and dresser drawers, and we worked rapidly in tandem to maneuver my shorts on before I raised myself up so Edward, who had draped a shirt across my back, could flip over to do the buttons up.

And not a moment too late.

The doorbell rang and Edward muttered, "Shit," before sliding off the bed and making his way downstairs. I flopped back down onto the pillow and listened to Esme tell Edward that Renesmee was fast asleep and to go put her in her bed. Edward then told Esme that I had loved my gift _so_ much that I had gotten a little _too_ enthusiastic in my "examination" of it.

I snorted, loud enough that they heard me downstairs. Esme let out a small giggle, and I assumed she waved Edward onward and upward to the upper level from the sounds of their feet padding up the stairs. I heard Edward move down toward Renesmee's room as Esme's light footsteps filled ours. The weight shifted on the bed, and I scanned to see a hacksaw sitting next to my head. I looked up, and Esme was smiling down at me, trying to stifle another giggle.

"You can't _ever_ speak of this again, Esme!"

She winked at me and said, "It'll be our little secret, dear."


End file.
